Title: Secrets Kept (1/1)
Author: Christina
Category: S, M/S friendship, a teeny bit of angst, some humor
Rating: G
Spoilers: None
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know
Summary: A Saturday, sunflower seeds, and a secret.
Disclaimer: The characters Fox Mulder and Dana Scully belong to
Chris Carter and Fox and 1013 Productions. No infringement
intended.
Thanks to Triton and Alcott for awesome beta work.
Author's notes at end.
Feedback at: cryst98014@aol.com
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I lean back tiredly in my chair, I remove my glasses
and rub my eyes. Another Saturday spent down in the bowels of
the FBI building; another Saturday spent going through expense
reports and field notes. Where is Scully when I need her?
Okay, okay. I know it's not fair; I always make Scully type up
the expense reports and field notes. Well, I don't *make* her,
but she knows she's so much *better* at it than I am. And it
takes her half the time--hell, sometimes a third the time--it
does me. But Scully had made plans to spend time with her
mother, so who was I to impose?
Yeah, okay, I tried to impose. I was desperate. I chuckle when
I remember the choice words Scully had for me.
Sigh.
So, it's well past the lunch hour, I've managed to spill coffee
all over my desk and notes not once, but twice. Computer whiz
that I am, I also happened to accidentally erase most of the
morning's work because I forgot to hit the SAVE
button.
I'm bored. I'm tired of throwing paper balls at the
wastebasket. I wonder what Scully is doing. She's probably out
shopping and lunching. Doing normal things. I'm glad for her.
But I miss her, too. And not just because she's more efficient
at typing than I am.
Restless, I get up from my chair and start pacing around my desk.
What's wrong with me? I find myself standing in front of
Scully's desk, trailing my hand absently over its surface.
Her desk speaks volumes about what kind of person Scully is.
Desk blotter centered perfectly. Phone in the upper left-hand
corner. And her IN box is empty, of course.
Ruefully, I glance over at my own desk. Stacks and stacks of
manila folders, crisscrossed to keep them from falling over. A
veritable tower of reference books teetering precariously near
the edge. Coffee-stained paperwork spread everywhere, hiding the
ring shaped stains left by coffee cups on the wood surface
beneath.
Sighing, I go around to Scully's chair and ease myself into it.
I lean back in the chair and put my feet up on the corner of her
desk. Wow, this is nice. I can never manage this position when
sitting at my own desk without sending files to the floor, their
contents going everywhere.
After a moment, I remove my feet and scoot myself up closer to
Scully's desk. I'm piqued with curiosity as I contemplate the
hidden realm that is Scully's desk drawers. I need a pencil, I
tell myself. And if I happen to see something interesting, hey,
it was an accident! Acting before guilt wins out, I take a
breath and hold it as I slide open the top drawer of the desk.
Top drawer reveals pens, pencils, paper clips, and a small
stapler. Post-its and a pack of sugarless gum round out the
collection. I take a piece of the classic flavored bubble gum
and chew it absentmindedly.
I pause, looking guiltily towards the door. It's Saturday, it's
not like she's going to walk in at any moment. Anyway, I'm sure
I could come up with a quick excuse if needed.
What *is* my excuse? I'm not sure, but for some reason I feel
the need to find out if Scully's desk is as neat and orderly as
it always seems to be. I mean, there's got to be something in
here that will give away some small secret, a little insight into
my mostly closed-off partner.
I tell myself it's the psychologist in me.
So I dive into the side drawers.
A couple of legal pads, the latest best seller by John Grisham.
I flip through the legal pads, not really paying attention to the
medical jargon and notes in the margins. I don't really want to
invade Scully's privacy too much. Nothing jumps out at me so I
go on to the next drawer.
Some medical journals, dog-eared, her places marked by little
strips of paper. Nothing very fascinating. On to the bottom
drawer.
Bingo! I think I've hit the jackpot.
This must be Scully's junk drawer. The drawer isn't very deep
and there's not that much to go through, but I take my time,
going through these more personal things of Scully's.
A couple packets of travel-sized tissue. A tube of lipstick. I
uncap it and twist the base to inspect the color within. Hmm, I
haven't seen this color on her in a while. A small address
book. I flip through it absently, appears to be mostly family
members and business associates. I *do* take time to notice
"Mulder, Fox" under the M's. A small Bible. A bottle of Advil
and a prescription antihistamine filled last year. A small
silver photo frame. I pick it up to examine it.
It's a picture of us. I'm not sure where it came from, but I
think I recognize some of the background as Scully's mom's home.
Neither of us are looking at the camera, Scully's looking off to
the side and I'm looking down at her. I'm smiling. It looks
odd, seeing myself smiling. I'm starting to wonder why Scully
would hide a picture like this from me when I see it.
A bag. Whoa.
I would know that label anywhere. She'd rolled it up to keep out
the air and shoved it to the back of the drawer. But I've seen
enough poly bags with that red and blue lettering in my lifetime.
The framed picture is placed aside, forgotten. I reach in slowly
for the bag, grinning now. It crinkles loudly as I unroll it and
pour some of the contents into my palm.
"Well, I'll be damned," I say aloud.
Removing my gum first, I pop the handful into my mouth, savoring
the saltiness. I expertly push them all to one side of my mouth
and tongue and teeth worked together to pop the first one open.
I quickly chew and swallow and then spit the remains into my
cupped palm before repeating the process.
Chuckling to myself, I try to imagine Scully going through the
exact same process. Man, this does *not* fit in with my ladylike
image of Scully. It's almost like Scully chewing tobacco. When
had she started this? Why? And all her years of teasing me for
it! This was too good to let slide....
My eyes are drawn back to the photo lying on Scully's desk
blotter. I pick it up again and study it, reverently. I trace
the ornate pattern etched in the frame with my fingertip as I
look at the image it surrounds. There's a reason she has this
picture here, hidden from me, and whatever it is, I don't want
Scully to know I've been here.
Guiltily, but suddenly happy, I roll the bag of sunflower seeds
closed and try to put it back exactly as I found it. After one
last fond look, the photo follows the seeds. I slide the drawer
shut and straighten her blotter. After rising from her chair, I
push it back in, leaving everything neat and tidy. I return to
my own desk, my notes and laptop, humming to myself.
A couple of hours later, as I'm almost finished for the day, I
hear the click-click of heels approaching from the hall. Looking
up expectantly, I watch Scully enter the office. She deposits
her purse on her desk, crosses the small space between us and
perches herself on the one corner of my desk that is vacant.
"How are the expense reports coming, Mulder?" Scully inquires
expectantly.
I flash her a smile. "Great, just great. You here to put me out
of my misery, Scully?"
She returns my smile with a rare one of her own. "No, Mulder,
I'm not. My mom started feeling tired, so we called it an early
day. I was actually stopping by to see if you needed any help."
I see her eyes taking in the mountain of files, stained notes,
and balled up paper on the floor around my desk. "But I can see
you're doing fine by yourself..."
I grab a piece of paper, ball it up, and throw it at her. She
ducks and swats it away. Chuckling, Scully leaves me and sits
down at her desk. "Okay, Mulder, what do you have for me?"
I thankfully pass her a pile of receipts to sort through. We've
been working in companionable silence for a few minutes when I
reach into a drawer and pull out my own stash of sunflower seeds.
I start cracking and spitting shells noisily, until Scully looks
over in irritation.
Around a mouthful of seeds I mumble, "Seed?"
Arched eyebrow. "No, thank you, Mulder."
Unable to stop myself, I begin to laugh.
"What’s so damn funny?"
I pretend to choke. "Nothing, Scully." As I compose myself, I
say, "Everything's just right."
I go back to my report and I can see her out of the corner of my
eye, Scully giving me that doubtful look I know so well. I see
her shake her head in wonderment and then she returns to her
work.
I grin broadly to myself. What a great way to spend a Saturday.
End
Author's notes: A big heartfelt thank you to my new friend and
beta, Triton. Without you I don't know if I would've attempted
writing again. Thanks also go out to Alcott for taking the time
to reach out to me when I felt no one would make the effort.
Thanks, guys!
Feedback: cryst98014@aol.com
(
geocities.com/christinalynne1227)